Queer as Wolf
by Dark K. Sly
Summary: Stiles knows that freaking loft from somewhere, he just can't remember where. /mentions of Queer as Folk/
1. Queer as Wolf

**Queer as Wolf**

There's something freakishly familiar with this freaking loft, and Stiles can't quite put his finger on it – though this may be because of the fact that he can't think properly, knowing that Scott is out there, with Derek and his crazy band of wolves, hunting people.

Not nice.

He keeps pacing the length of the room for as long as he can – trying very hard not to annoy Peter enough that the man will actually make good on his offer to knock him unconscious, and when they finally get the clear to leave the place, Stiles is left with that weird bugging sensation that _he freaking knows_ that loft, and he can't remember how.

It's all very annoying.

 **X**

It's three days later that they have to get back to the damn loft. He and Scott have exhausted their options of research of why someone would be freaking killing virgins, and they have to share whatever they found with Derek, because this has nothing to do with the Alphas, so they'll have to play two games at once, and this is just not good.

As he is finally sliding the door of the elevator to get out, something _clicks_ , and he _knows_ why this place is familiar: it's eerily similar to Brian Kinney's loft.

Stiles would know, he's watched that show so many times he can quote the entire thing.

Derek and Scott do their little song and dance of 'you're not my Alpha', 'yes, kid, I know, now let my eyebrows intimidate you and your little friend a little' and then they get down to business.

"They are killing _virgins_ " Derek says, his tone implying that he thinks they are both idiots, but then again, this is what his tone _always_ implies near Scott and Stiles, so it's nothing new, really, " _Why_?"

"Sacrifices. I don't know why, I'm not the one _killing_ them. If anything, I'm the one who can _get killed_."

Derek smirks at him.

"I'm sure Scott will protect your virtuous ass, Stiles."

"Well, not everyone is getting laid all the time, Kinney."

"Not all the time, just once would be enough, Taylor."

Derek doesn't even seem _aware_ of what he's saying until the moment Stiles raises his eyes and they stare at each other in shock.

Stiles can't quite process the data, because, well.

1\. Derek has _obviously_ watched Queer as Folk.

2\. He _obviously_ identifies with Brian Kinney.

And, more importantly:

3\. _He just called Stiles Taylor_.

They keep staring at each other until Scott stops talking and just looks at them.

"Are you two okay?" the teen asks, concerned.

"Great" Stiles says, as Derek almost growls "Yes".

They arrange to meet in a couple of days, if no one needs the other sooner, and are almost leaving when Stiles can't resist.

"Should I buy a school uniform and stalk you?" he asks, smirking, and Derek flashes red eyes at him, "Okay, okay, I'm leaving!"

As the elevator door is just closing, though, he can _swear_ he heard Derek say he's not as annoying as Justin.

He is totally counting it as a win.


	2. Queer, There and Everywhere

**Queer, There and Everywhere**

Derek would try and deny it to his dying day, but the second Stiles recognized the style of his loft from Queer as Folk was the second he realized he wouldn't really be able _not_ to try and be with the boy, because, well.

He may – or may not – have a thing for his…

His everything really.

He felt like such a pervert sometimes, but, eh, gotta learn to live with it anyway.

 **X**

He was decided to wait until Stiles was eighteen, and then the damn kid went and bought himself a _school uniform_.

Seriously, why is this his life?

 **X**

The little shit smirks when he shows up at his loft – _in uniform –_ for Halloween. Derek's not going to any parties, Stiles, apparently, is going to Lydia's, but decided to come and show Derek his pretty blazer and shirt and tie, and he kept staring at the bed and smirking.

He finds excuses to be around Derek wearing the damn thing three more times, and by then Derek is so sexually frustrated he can't even think straight.

 **X**

The day Stiles actually stalks him all over town, and tries to get him to go to Jungle with Peter is the day he decides two can play this game.

 **X**

He calls Stiles and tells him to come to the loft because he needs help with research – Stiles doesn't complain, and Derek can practically _feel_ how smug he is for having an excuse to show up and torture Derek some more.

Derek will show him smug. Oohh, he will.

 **X**

The second Stiles steps into the loft, Derek grabs him by the lapels of his damn fake uniform blazer, and pushes him against the door, smirking all the while at the surprise look on the teen's face – it lasts but a second, because Stiles is actually the one to close the distance between them, pressing his lips to Derek's with no finesse whatsoever. Derek presses closer, his hips grinding into Stiles's, and takes the teen's head into his hands, licking his lips open, containing a smile at the way Stiles lets out a quiet moan at the feeling.

Derek rolls his hips once, feeling Stiles getting hard and fucks his mouth with his tongue, as if trying to steal his breath away.

When he takes a small step back, Stiles lets out a quiet disappointed sound, and Derek turns around and walks away, his back to the teen, taking off his shirt without a care in the world.

He can hear Stiles swallowing hard, and he smirks to himself – let's see who's going to be smug now.

Without looking at Stiles, he sits on the edge of the bed and leans back on his left elbow, his right hand running down his chest, slowly across the waist of his jeans, undoing his button and carefully sliding the zipper down.

"Oh my God."

He looks up then, smiling slowly, watching as Stiles's mouth opens and closes, as if he's trying to find something to say and can't find his words.

Well, that's a way to shut the kid up.

He puts his hand in his pants and pulls his dick out, wriggling a bit until his jeans aren't bothering him anymore. He squeezes the tip, closing his eyes form a second at the sensation, and then looks at Stiles again, who's frozen by the door, eyes trained on the hand that is now running up and down the length of his cock slowly, teasingly, feeling it harden bit by bit.

"Since you're so fond of the uniform, I thought I could teach you a lesson" he tells the boy firmly, and Stiles nods, his eyes not really straying from their rapt observation of Derek's cock, "Come here."

"Hell yes" the teen whispers, tripping on his own feet in his haste to get to the bed. When he's close enough, he starts to climb onto it, but Derek shakes his head.

"Nah ah ah. Kneel" he tells him, his voice calm and gentle, but firm, and their eyes meet, Stiles licking his lips nervously before doing as he's told, and kneeling between Derek's legs.

Stiles, for all of his teasing, seems unsure all of a sudden, but it lasts only a second – true to his Justin impersonation, he leans forward, wrapping his lips around the tip of Derek's dick, giving it a tentative lick and then sucking on it for a moment, before pulling away.

When he looks back up, Derek puts his other elbow on the bed and raises an eyebrow at him.

"Are you going to finish that?" he asks, smirking again, and Stiles gets a determined look on his face, as if being challenged is all that takes for him to do something – which is pretty much the truth: the surest way to get Stiles to do anything is telling him he can't.

He leans forward again, licking Derek's cock from bottom to the tip, before sucking it into his mouth again, adjusting himself on his knees, so he can grab the base and work on it, slowly, teasingly, even if his grip is uncertain and a bit awkward for a while – he's never done this before, and Derek is loath to admit that it gives him a thrill to be the one to see him like this.

Stiles starts sucking harder then, trying to get more into his mouth, his hand losing its steady rhythm to something of a more frantic friction, and Derek slips his fingers into his hair, pulling him back a bit.

The teen lets go slowly, and stares at him in confusion, but Derek is smiling down at him – his thumb running over Stiles's lips and going into his mouth, and the kid closes his lips around it, sucking on it again with a moan.

He's been watching _way_ too much porn, Derek decides, but, oh well, it's working on his favor, because damn, he looks _wrecked_ like this.

"Take off your shirt" he whispers, and Stiles nods, leaning back a bit, and taking out his blazer and unbuttoning his shirt in a haste, throwing it to the side and opening the zipper on his jeans. He stares at Derek, on his knees, his bare chest, pale and dotted in freckles and moles, raising and falling rapidly, his long neck tilted to the side a bit, as if he's _submitting_.

Derek can't even think straight he wants this freaking teen so _much_ , and he's ready to admit that maybe, _just maybe_ , Stiles knows _exactly_ what he's doing to him if that small smile playing on his lips is anything to go by.

He leans forward and pulls Stiles up and on his lap with no effort, and the teen has the audacity to _laugh_ and look down at him for a second before hiding his face on his neck and licking the skin there, making Derek shiver under him.

He slides his hands down Stiles's back, slipping them under his jeans, squeezing his ass and grinding his hips against him.

"Fuck" Stiles mutters, grinding down too.

"Not today" Derek says back, biting Stiles's neck before raising a hand to his hair again and pulling his face towards him, kissing him filthily.

Stiles sucks on his tongue as Derek rolls their hips together, one of his fingers teasing Stiles's ass – but not too far, because Derek can't stop right now for the apocalypse itself, never mind to get lube from a drawer, and he tries to slow Stiles down, but the teen keeps making all these noises, and it's driving Derek _crazy_ , and he comes before Stiles does, which seems to be endlessly amusing to the kid who keeps grinding down and then moans, stopping altogether and falling onto Derek's shoulder.

"Please tell me we can do that again" it's the first thing he says when he recovers, his words muffled by Derek's neck, and Derek snorts, his hands running on Stiles's back a few times.

"Definitely."

"I _really_ want you to fuck me. I'd _really_ like to fuck you too" it's the kid's answer, and Derek pulls back and stares at Stiles, at the way his mouth is red and bruised, and his chest is sweaty, and he looks all around both gross _and_ sexy as hell.

"I'm not _actually_ Brian Kinney. Not until you're eighteen" it's his answer.

Stiles sighs then, but leans forward and kisses Derek – sweet, slow and gentle, in a kiss that speaks of more than sex.

"I'm good with that as long as you don't push me away" he whispers then, his hands finding their way into Derek's hair and the man can't stop a smile from appearing.

"I don't think I could even if I wanted to."

Stiles smiles broadly at him and leans forward again, his face on Derek's neck, hugging him.

Derek closes his eyes and hugs him back.

They'll be just fine.


End file.
